Tangled (In Pasta?)
by Nishinn
Summary: All his life, Feliciano has been locked in the hidden tower, dreaming of finally getting to see the distant floating lights that appear on his birthday up-close. He finds that his ticket out just might be the blue-eyed blond thief who'd climbed his tower wanting a crown he'd stolen. It's just that his Papa Flavio would get extremely upset if he disobeyed...(Gerita Tangled-Hetalia)
1. Chapter 1

**OKAY so here's the thing: I put up a little "request whatever fanfic you want and I'll write it" thing on my Tumblr blog, and this one particular request by maryranstadler1 got me so hyped up I just _had_ to make it into a full-length story! GerIta is one of my greatest OTPs and Tangled is my favorite Disney princess movie. (Because Lion King and Wreck It Ralph are top.)**

 **So a Tangled AU, main pairing is GerIta and this is the first chapter! I don't own Hetalia or Disney! (gods I'm so excited for this! I'll also update on my tumblr. URL is _eranishxd_ )**

* * *

This is the story of a boy, named Feliciano; and it starts with the sun.

Now, once upon a time, a single drop of sunlight fell from the heavens. And from this small drop of sun, grew a magic, golden flower. It had the ability to heal the sick and injured. Of course, this was all written off as a legend. No one would totally, completely believe in something as incredulous as a magic flower, no would they?

Well, centuries passed, and a hop, skip and a boat ride away grew a kingdom. The kingdom was ruled by a beloved king and queen. And the queen…

…well, she was about to have a baby. And she got sick. _Really_ sick.

Queen Elizaveta was running out of time, and that's when people usually start to look for a miracle. Or in this case, a magic golden flower.

Now, someone _did_ manage to find this golden flower before—an old man by the name of Flavio Vargas. But instead of sharing the sun's gift, he hoarded its healing power and used it to keep himself young for hundreds of years. And all he had to do was sing a special song…

 _Flower gleam and glow, let your power shine…_

His wrinkled hands would cup its petals, pupils wide with greed.

 _Make the clock reverse, bring back what once was mine…_

And his skin would grow taut and fresh, spots disappearing, any trace of white on his hair chased back into a vibrant gold.

 _What once was mine._

And just like that, the miracle was kept to himself, and he lived with this secret for hundreds of years. That is, until a crucial blunder was made at the worst of all possible times.

It was an accidental flick of his oil lantern, a panicked movement upon hearing the rumbling of hooves and footsteps. Flavio could do nothing but watch, hidden away behind the brush, as his precious little flower was spotted and uprooted, glaring icily at his protective leaf-dome now forgotten on the banks of a river.

" _We found it! We found it!"_ Gleaming armor, leather-saddled steeds… the soldiers of the kingdom have indeed found it.

Now in the palace, the magic of the golden flower healed the queen with a simple little concoction. As she drank the magicl liquid, hope returned to the hearts of the people and to the heart of King Roderich.

Months later, a healthy baby boy, a prince was born. A little hint: he was Feliciano.

His amber eyes were bright with joy, their luster matching that of the thick, caramel locks sprouting from his scalp, adorned with an adorable little curl to the side and a jewel-studded crown on his head.

The king and queen, as well as the kingdom, had been brought joy to by the young prince. His bright smile could outshine the sun any time, and his little giggles of laughter were music to the ears.

To celebrate his birth, the king and queen launched a flying lantern into the sky for the entire kingdom to see. Festivities went on in the prince's honor, and the Sun became the kingdom's symbol in memory of that flower. And for that one moment, everything was perfect.

And then that moment ended.

In the dark of the night, Flavio, the old man wrecked with grief and anger at the loss of his beloved miracle, scaled the palace towers with the intention of getting it back.

The balcony was open, King Roderich and Queen Elizaveta fast asleep and thoroughly exhausted, and there, in the little crib in the center of the vast bedroom, was his prize. Flavio wanted to test his little theory.

" _Flower gleam and glow,"_ At the uttered melody, the boy's hair began to glow. Amber locks gleamed in the dark resembling a light almost golden. Bingo. _"Let your power shine,"_ Now all he needed was a good bunch of that hair and he would be gone, quick as he planned. Out came the scissors. _Snip!_ "Make the clock re—"

Flavio gasped, stumbling back. The golden glow faded and the luscious amber of the boy's hair grew into an ugly, dull brown. His hands wrinkled once more; he could feel himself growing older by the second. No, no chances could be taken.

In one swift motion he swooped the boy into his arms and ran out to the balcony, but not without an alarmed cry and a clatter of falling scissors to alert the king and queen. But then it was too late.

He'd broken into the castle, stole the child, and just like that— gone.

The kingdom searched and searched, but they could not find the prince. But deep within the forest, in a hidden tower, Flavio raised the child as his own…

He taught little Feliciano the special song, and would have him sing it, in his sweet little voice, as his hair was brushed every day. Flavio had found his new magic flower, and this time he was determined to keep it hidden.

When little Feliciano would ask, "Why can't I go outside?" He would always respond with his same, reasonable answer.

"The outside world is a dangerous place, filled with horrible, selfish people." He shakes his head. "You must stay here, where you're safe. Do you understand, flower?"

An innocent little nod. "Yes, Papa."

But the walls of that tower could not hide everything.

Each night of that one day of the year, that one special day of his birth, Feliciano would sneak through the halls, past his Papa's bedroom door. All the way to the window he'd walk, gathering up his footstool to stand on and throwing open the great wooden shutters.

There, he'd see those little sparkling lights in the distant sky, moving upwards in such delicate grace. He felt as if they were calling him, beckoning him to come closer, even though he hadn't the slightest clue what they were.

They couldn't be the stars, they moved far too quickly for that, and shone far brighter. It didn't matter. They were special, and they were special to Feliciano.

For each year, the king and queen released thousands of flying lanterns into the sky, in hopes that one day their lost prince would return…

* * *

 **Next chapter coming soon! Thanks again to maryranstadler1 for the request!**

 **~Nixh**


	2. Chapter 2

**Yay chapter 2! Hope you all enjoy this one and tell me what you think in the reviews!**

 **(disclaimer: i don't own hetalia nor disney. thanks.)**

* * *

There it was—the open window. So close. But he could not make any mistakes this time. No, not at such a crucial state.

The summer breeze felt oh so refreshing, blowing all over the young man. The drawn back curtains swayed back and forth in the wind, and the sunlight filtering through cast such a peaceful atmosphere around him—but oh, he knew that the situation was anything but peaceful.

As Feliciano approached, his hands reached for the bush of yellow dandelions set on the windowsill. They looked so innocent, so pretty—little ruffles of gold tucked into a bushel of green… but ah! One was out of place.

"AHA!" The young man cried out, his hand shooting for the furry, misplaced, yellow ball. An expected incessant chirping followed suit as Feliciano laughed, letting go of his companion who settled quickly on the window sill.

"Those are 23 wins for me, Gilbird!" He laughed. The feisty yellow bird he liked to call his companion- and closest friend- looked a little less than happy at the declaration. He let out another small chirp, flapping his wings in frustration.

The amber-eyed boy only chuckled. "Alright, I think that's enough hide-and-seek for today," he said, lifting up the bird onto his shoulder, then pulled his flowing amber locks to the side to allow Gilbird more space.

Feliciano knew he wasn't normal; he wasn't the same as other people. Granted, he'd never recalled so much as being in the _presence_ of other people, but that was because he was special. He was special, yes, his Papa Flavio had told him so on many occasions, yet he knew his _specialness_ came at a deadly price.

His amber hair, a near cross between chocolate brown and gold, constantly trailed behind him wherever he went. It was extraordinarily long—enough to reach the very base of his tower when thrown out the window. Each and every strand remained surprisingly tame and generally unruly, save for maybe the little curl sticking out the side of his head. His Papa Flavio had one too... the thought made him smile.

Now, it was a little past seven in the morning; time to start his daily routine!

Throwing ingredients into the large ceramic bowl, along with a little help from Gilbird, Feli had started his favorite task of baking their daily loaf of bread. About half an hour later, into the oven went the dough.

Next, he swept every inch of his home. The tower was everything he'd known, and he loved the place! With Gilbird manning the dustpan, he swept their living quarters first. He swept the ashes back into the fireplace, he swept out the dust from his woodcarving station; he swept the kitchen, his bedroom and his papa's bedroom. He knew every inch of this tower's living space, every nook and cranny. He knew all the best places to hide—himself and little treasures alike. He knew every inch of the above rafters.

Sometimes, with the help of his impossibly long hair, he'd swing from the rafters, climb them, make swing sets on them and practice makeshift acrobatic moves. He was rather skilled, if he did say so himself.

After the bread was done baking he'd set it aside, and began to read through each book on the shelf, their spines were worn and cracked from being read over and over for days on end. Sometimes he'd wish Papa Flavio would bring back a new book, but then he'd have to sacrifice time to buy his painting materials in exchange.

No, he loved painting more. _Way_ more. A new book could wait.

After reading, he set on what he loved to do best. His paints were out and ready, several worn paintbrushes already in hand, and he looked up to his canvas, the wall, to find… not an inch more of space to paint on.

Maybe the ceiling? No, covered in his own array of paintings as well. His bedroom was in the same situation. His Papa Flavio had even allowed him to paint in his room only a year ago and now it was as filled to the brim as the rest of the house with his paintings.

Maybe… there. What was behind that curtain in the back, on top of the mantle? He shifted over the heavy drapes to find an old cardboard stand, and was delighted to find a space of blank, cream-colored wall behind it.

Perfect. And he knew just what to fill it up with.

* * *

Sliding down tiled roofs and jumping from one to another became an easy feat with Flynn Rider's line of work.

Maybe a year or so of practice had him in top-notch shape, excellence in sword fighting and sneaky tactics, as well as his face on several wanted posters—or so he heard. He'd never quite seen any yet.

So, when he decided to go after what he knew to be an impossibly huge score, it made sense he'd collaborate with two other fellow thieves, right?

Well, to be fair, the operation wasn't quick and easy. It took them a week of stalking the palace surroundings, memorizing guarding rounds, learning the quickest escape routes and most concealed areas before they began. It took another week of locating the throne room and prying open a self-made hatch on the roof without making a sound, which took a lot of stealth and strength.

The two others accompanying the infamous Flynn Rider were dubbed the Stabbington Brothers by the royal guard—a name they weren't particularly fond of. They worked well together and had been in the industry far longer than Rider had. Another thing was it was near impossible to tell them apart, save for a few key features. The older brother, Alfred, had choppy blond hair, a cowlick, and ocean blue eyes. The younger's hair, Matthew, seemed to be lighter in color, a tad more wavy, had a not-so-prominent curl in place of the cowlick, and his eyes seemed to be purplish in color.

They were also the ones he thought were easier to trust. Now, no one could completely trust a _thug,_ especially if you were a thug yourself, but for a job this big, risks had to be taken.

In no time, the three had made their way onto the rooftops on the palace. The view from there was simply… exhilarating. All the little buildings and landmasses stretching out below you, as though the entire kingdom were yours…

"Wow… I could get used to a view like this…"

"So could I."

"Shut up, Alfred. Rider, come on!" Matthew hissed, crouched above their now opened hatch.

His brother in turn, ignored him, and continued to gaze out towards the horizon. "Check this out, Rider. A magnificent kingdom!" He declared.

Rider couldn't help but nod along. "Hmm… I want a castle."

"We do this job, you can buy your own castle," Matthew growled and chucked his brother the rope.

Alfred laughed and turned to the other thief. "You get that crown, Rider," he handed him the rope, eyes flashing briefly. "Or all of this would've been for nothing."

Ah, there it was—the criminal undertone. Of course.

Rider flashed a knowing smile, sky blue eyes gleaming in the sunlight. He then quickly, expertly knotted the rope around his waist and handed the brothers the other end.

The descent was easy enough. He stopped, just above the precious, jewel-studded crown sitting on its plush cushion in the center of the room. Nine guards encircled the kingdom's precious treasure, all luckily facing away.

This was a stupid tactic, Rider knew. He decided to have a little fun.

"Hey,"

"Hey."

" _Achoo!_ "

"Hay Fever?"

"Yeah."

Just another day for a royal guard at the palace.

Wait.

"Hey! Stop! Thief! He's stealing the crown!"

Ah yes, mass panic. The king and queen really should get better security.

"You got the crown?" Alfred grunted, hoisting him up the hatch and cutting off the rope.

"Of course I did." In one swift motion the gleaming crown was stuffed into an old, leathery satchel. Now concealed, the three made their way down the rooftops, through the empty alleyways and out the kingdom's borders with their piece of treasure.

Another success for Flynn Rider. Oh, he was definitely going to get that castle now. "Gentlemen, this is a very big day."

* * *

 **Thanks for reading! #GerIta on the way don't worry**

 **~Nixh**


End file.
